People will go to incredible lengths if something really matters. When someone or something important hangs in the balance, it stirs the blood, pushes us to take chances we wouldn’t otherwise take, and cross lines we wouldn’t normally transgress.
That’s certainly true for Nacho here. If he’s had one consistent character trait over the course of Better Call, it’s that he’s apt to keep things stable and not rock the boat unless he has to. He’s more thoughtful and more calculating than the hot-blooded Salamancas he answers to. But his other consistent throughline is how much he loves his father. That means Nacho will take chances and put himself at risk in ways that he wouldn’t normally do, if it allows him to protect the man who raised him.
That parental devotion makes it extra frightening when Gus Fring’s goons kidnap him late in the evening and make him watch one as one of Gus’s henchman lurks around his dad’s shop. The effort at intimidation is in keeping with Gus’s M.O. from Breaking Bad — invoking threats against loved ones to assure compliance. Fring’s chillingly calm demeanor, as always, only makes the threat that much more concerning.
Michael Mando does a superb job selling the magnitude of that threat though. There’s a raw desperation in his voice when Nacho begs Gus not to go through with it and promises to find a way to earn Lalo’s trust. His pleas confirms that he was intentionally stepping on the package (presumably to give Gus an edge in the marketplace?) and that he’s been following Fring’s orders this whole time. But Gus now perceives the threat Lalo represents and is willing to push his mole to the absolute limit in order to protect himself against a plotting rival. The button to push is Nacho’s father, and Gus knows that.
"I call this meeting of the Loud Shirt Enthusiasts' Brigade to order!"
In a way, it’s the same kind of button that Jimmy’s trying to push. He’s chasing a certain image of success with his current racket, but also, in his usual fractured way, trying to build a family. As I’ve said multiple times, Kim now occupies the space in Jimmy’s life that Chuck once did: holding him back from his worst impulses and representing the loved one whose approval Jimmy is desperate to earn.
The difference is that Kim likes and even loves Jimmy right back. Their problems aren’t going away (see: the fact that Jimmy mistakes Kim’s objections to his line of work as an objection to him offering discounts), but there’s a legitimate connection and attachment between them. The way they horse around in the shower, speak frankly to one another about their dreams and fears, confirms that there’s something real keeping them together even as more and more issues that could tear them apart bubble under the surface.
Jimmy’s blind to that risk. He imagines the two of them in a big house, enjoying the spoils of success and making a future together. It’s tragic because that’s a future we know (or at least have good reason to think) he’ll never see. Jimmy is hustling more than ever — a point that “50% Off” underlines — but it’s not just for the sake of the game. It’s for the sake of living a dream life with Kim that he believes is finally within reach.
“50% Off” also gives us a glimpse of what it feels like when that sort of connection is severed. Mike receives the briefest check-in here, as he once again babysits his granddaughter. The visit goes well, with the old pro enlisting the little one’s help with a home improvement project and using football to teach her times tables. Everything’s hunky dory until Kaylee starts asking about her father.
"Do I have to use the whole ruler, Grandpa?" "Yes you do, Kaylee. No more half measures."
It’s then that Mike stares off into the middle distance, forced to recall once again how his son lost his life after getting mired in his father’s muck. Mike’s animating guilt over Matty melds with his grief over Werner, as another good man is taken down by a world of killers and thieves that Mike is active and complicit in. Mike is still raw over his latest killing, something plain from a home littered with empty beer cans and other signs of visible misery. So he takes it out on his granddaughter, his dead son’s child, whom all of this is supposed to be for.
That’s tough to watch. Jonathan Banks nails the scene as always. You feel his hurt and instantly regret his misplaced anger. Mike is the type of guy who’s done whatever it took to look after his family, with an eye toward soothing his soul after Matty’s death. But years later, now with more blood on his hands, it’s debatable whether that tack has made things better or worse for him.
Jimmy’s hoping a “by any means necessary” approach can still make things better for him, though. As in the season premiere, it’s tons of fun to watch a full-fledged Saul Goodman do what he does best as he aims to churn through cases to build up his bankroll. The show does a nice job at dramatizing how much Jimmy’s overloading himself, particularly with the tracking shot that follows him while he traipses through the courthouse. That sequence captures the flurry of activity as Jimmy rolls through everyone from clients on the phone, to opposing DAs, to Howard Hamlin himself (striking a conciliatory tone and making his first appearance in season 5). We understand why Jimmy’s doing all of this — to pay for his dream life with Kim — but the “how” is still entertaining.
Jimmy’s tricks, however, don’t seem to work on Suzanne Ericsen, the DA who tried to put Huell in jail and still seems to harbor resentment for the newly-dubbed Saul. She correctly sniffs out his quantity-over-quality plan and tells him that it’s his problem, not hers. So Jimmy takes it a step further. He bribes the elevator operator to leave them stuck together and makes himself annoying to the point that Suzanne would rather negotiate with him over their fifteen cases than continue to listen to him rehearse.
"Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this."
In the end, Jimmy gets what he wants. This is far from the most devious trick he’s ever played, but it’s indicative of the lengths he’ll go to achieve his goals. He is not, as Kim was, bending the rules in order to achieve the outcome he truly believes in. Instead, he’s valuing speed over justice, gamesmanship over decency, with the idea that it’ll speed up his business and help cement his life with the person he cares the most about. It’s a shortcut, one made in the name of an important relationship.
In a strange way, it’s the same thing Nacho’s trying to do here. It’s no secret that he and Lalo aren’t exactly on the same page. But Gus demands that Nacho ingratiate himself to the Salamanca captain du jour as the war between the rival factions gradually escalates. So Nacho has to take some chances himself, to accelerate a bond between him and his boss and thereby protect his father’s life.
Thankfully, a pair of morons happen along and create the perfect opportunity. Granted, the episode spends way too much time on that double dose of idiocy, who are so inspired by Saul Goodman’s titular half-off promise that they go on an extended crime spree and use it as a mantra. But the pair’s misadventures lead them to a Salamanca drug distribution spot, eventually attracting the cops’ attention.
Unfortunately for Lalo and his crew, there’s a nearly full complement of the product in question stashed in that safe house, one that’s all but sure to be forfeited as the police swarm the place. But Nacho sees his opportunity. Without asking permission, he bolts over to a neighboring house, takes a page from his web-slinging acquaintance by leaping across rooftops, narrowly avoids the police, and manages to recover the stash.
"It's OK. I'm wearing my lucky infinity stone."
The sequence is less tense than normal, despite the superb direction of the scene, given that the plot all but demands Nacho succeed here. Still, it works. Lalo declares his resourceful lieutenant a “badass,” gives him a little more autonomy in their next scene, and seems to trust Nacho more than he did before this daring move. The leaping retrieval was a risky move from Nacho, but one less risky to him than the status quo when his father’s life hangs in the balance.
In some ways that’s a simple story, but also one that winds its way throughout Better Call Saul and Breaking Bad. Some character hums through the business as usual; something comes along that puts their loved ones’ futures at risk, and so they go to extremes to take care of those people. And yet, that’s only half of the equation. More often than not in this little cinematic universe, there’s a cost to those extremes, something these risk-takers lose when the endless hustle and narrow avoidance of consequences eventually catches up to them.
That’s already happened to Mike. Jimmy’s future’s clouded by what we already know. And as Nacho tugs ever harder on that thread, what comes tumbling down might not leave him and his family any safer or happier.
